


The Runaway Father

by lilidelafield



Series: Katiya [12]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 21:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10421904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilidelafield/pseuds/lilidelafield
Summary: Suddenly she was jerked wide awake. Where her papa should have been lying snugly beside her in his sleeping bag, there was no papa…and no sleeping bag. She sat up and looked around. His duffel was gone too.“Papa! Papa! Where are you papa? Papa!”Whilst on a camping trip, Illya abandons his daughter Katiya whilst she is sleeping. Why would he do that?





	

Napoleon Solo lay back in his sleeping-bag, staring through the open tent-flap at the twinkling stars. After a moment, they were temporarily blocked out as Illya crawled inside and flopped down on the floor beside his partner. Napoleon sat up and nudged him. Illya opened one eye.

            “Remind me whose idea this was, my friend?”

Napoleon’s teeth gleamed in the semi-darkness as he grinned widely.

            “Having second thoughts?”

            “Something like that. First the ground is too hard to sleep on, she needs something softer. I remind her that sleeping on the floor is all part of the experience. Then she was thirsty, then she was not tired enough to sleep…I had to tell her three bedtime stories and then sing her several Russian lullabyes before she dropped off.”

Napoleon was amused.

            “She’s tired all right. She was yawning so widely earlier, I could almost have driven my car into her mouth! She’s just over-excited, that’s all.”

Illya nodded, but he didn’t smile. His partner noticed.

            “What is it?”

            “I’m worried about her.”

            “Katiya? She’s an intelligent child, pretty well adjusted considering her background. What is it that worries you about her?”

Illya looked at him.

            “She doesn’t want to let me out of her sight. When we are together, even relieving nature is becoming troublesome, because…well, you know. She likes you, but…”

            “You’re spending time with me when you should be concentrating on her? I suppose I can understand it, Illya. After all, she has lost everyone else in her life. You’re all she has left.”

            “That’s the point, Napoleon. I’ve been trying to teach her that she won’t be alone even if…she has you, and your brother and his family. I even told Cecily in my letter last winter that if Katiya should ever decide to call them mama and papa…or should I say mom and dad…I would not be upset.”

Napoleon frowned at him.

            “You said that? Did you mean it?”

Illya shrugged.

            “Well my concern is not for Cecily and Winston, but for Katiya. The fact is she needs to feel that she belongs, and she is refusing to let herself get too close to them in case she loses them too. At least, that’s what I believe is at the root of it all.”

            “Oh, Illya!”

The two were silent for a while, both watching the sky darken until the stars were bright jewels against the blackness. The broad stripe of the Milky Way taking their breaths away with its beauty.

            “Illya…I don’t mean to pry into…It’s just…well you grew up alone…believing that everyone you knew were dead…As a child, how did you cope with that?”

Illya shook his head.

            “That’s just it, Napoleon. Even though I was forced into the life I was living, I knew that somewhere out there, Uncle Dimitry was still alive, and my brother Mikhail. I was separated, cut off, but not alone. Not like Katiya would be if _I_ died. She is truly the last of the Kuryakins…for now, at least.”

Napoleon nodded.

            “Well, I see only two options.”

            “ _Two_?”

            “You allow Winston and Cecily to adopt her legally.”

Illya instantly shook his head.

            “No. No way. Not while there is still breath in my body. Not happening, Napoleon.”

            “Or we find a way to demonstrate that she is not alone even if you are not around.”

            “How do we do that? While we were in Britain, stuck in all that snow, we talked it all out, she and I, and she came to understand that for the foreseeable future, she cannot live with me. She has to live with your brother’s family.”

            “Well Illya, they are already her standby guardians. You signed the paper, and Mister Waverly and I were your witnesses. The paper is kept safely in Waverly’s office, and copies of it are filed in the appropriate places. It simply stated, if you remember, that when you are out of reach, they have the authority to act as her legal guardians in your stead until you return. If something should happen to you, they would simply petition the courts to make the standby guardianship permanent.”

Illya still looked unhappy.

            “I know…but that is legal stuff, Napoleon. All she cares about is being with me, every second. I feel the same way of course, but it worries me that she is still feeling so insecure, even though she has been here for more than half a year now.”

Napoleon nodded. Something must have been overlooked. What was it children wanted or needed? What was it that made them feel secure and at home? A family that loved them, certainly, but what else? After a while, he had a thought.

            “Illya, Katiya shares a room with Polly, doesn’t she?”

Illya nodded.

            “Polly has been very good to her, sharing her room, her toys…”

His voice dried up and her turned, his eyes wide.

            “Napoleon, perhaps that’s it? She is sharing Poll’s room? Everything in the house belongs to the Solo family, and she is just sharing. Even the spare room is the guest room, for the regular guest of the house…”

Napoleon nodded.

            “What if she had a bedroom of her own that reflected herself? Her own family, her own interests and her own background? If she had her own room, as had been Cecily’s original plan, it would belong to her.  The one place she would have where people would have to knock, ask her permission to enter? That would help her to see that her place there is permanent. If, for example, there was a sofa in the room that could be pulled out into a bed…”

Illya nodded.

            “Katiya’s belongings…the things that belonged to her when she was living with her grandfather…they were brought to this country with her weren’t they?”

Napoleon shook his head.

            “Not right away. You were still very under the weather when they first arrived, so you may not have known at the time, but the investigations into Kossov’s murder meant that everything had to remain where it was.”

            “Yes, everything was arranged while I was still suffering from the effects of that poison. Everything was crated up and shipped to UNCLE just three months ago? Stored down in the vault?”

Napoleon nodded.

            “Again, you were under the weather when that stuff arrived…the affair with THRUSH and their Brain Control machine.”

Illya remembered well how he had been subjected to THRUSH’s newest invention, a machine designed to destroy useful memories and intended to change a man’s reasons for his allegiance. It had been an attempt to change his loyalties from UNCLE to THRUSH. Fortunately, it had not worked quite as intended, and the machine had been confiscated by UNCLE and later destroyed.

Illya’s eyes met those of his partner.

            “Napoleon…how good are you with little girls?”

Napoleon raised an eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth quirked.

            “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

Illya nodded.

            “I will have to speak to Wint and Ce of course, but I cannot see them having any objections. It was their original intention to give Katiya her own room.”

            “You want to go now, don’t you? Abandon me here alone with your daughter whilst you go to Wint’s place and…?” At Illya’s half nod, he looked serious.

            “Illya, that is true trust. I know you trust me with _your_ life…but you are entrusting me with the life of your daughter. _Are you sure_?”

Illya nodded.

            “You have ten years’ experience of being an uncle to fall back on. I have six months of being an occasional weekend father…”

Napoleon nodded.

            “Go my friend. Do whatever you need to do. Turn that room into Katiya’s dream room…I’ll take good care of her. Call me on the communicator when it is safe to bring her home. If you take longer than the three days we have here, I’ll take her to my place.”

Illya got up and crawled back to the entrance of Napoleon’s tent.

            “I’d best go now whilst she is still asleep, or she won’t let me get away.”

            “All the best, my friend.”

            “Tell her...” Illya shrugged and rubbed absently at his eye. “Never mind. I’ll call you.”

 

MFU   MFU   MFU  

 

The sun streamed into the tent, and shone straight on to her face. Katiya yawned and rolled over, trying to get away from the bright glare and go back to sleep. Suddenly she was jerked wide awake. Where her papa should have been lying snugly beside her in his sleeping bag, there was no papa…and no sleeping bag. She sat up and looked around. His duffel was gone too.

            “Papa! Papa! Where are you papa? Papa!”

Her papa did not reply, neither did he come running to her. She crawled out of her tent and into the arms of Uncle Napoleon.

            “Where’s papa? Papa’s not here. Where’s my papa?”

Napoleon gave her a cheery smile.

            “He’s had to go into town. He wants us to finish our camp-out without him, and he will meet us later.”

Katiya stared at him, realization hitting her that her papa had abandoned her in the middle of nowhere with Uncle Napoleon. No, he wouldn’t just leave her without saying goodbye…he wouldn’t.”

            “He didn’t say goodbye. He wouldn’t leave me all alone and not say goodbye. He’s my papa!”

She started to cry, and Napoleon dropped to the ground beside her, realizing the child was really frightened.

            “Katiya…” he pulled her down beside him, but she fought him, beating on his chest with her fists, until she collapsed and sobbed into his arms. Napoleon realized just how much they had underestimated this little girl’s need. He held her until her sobs started to quieten, and then started to talk to her, softly and soothingly.

            “Katiya. You are a very special little girl, did you know that?”

            “Aunty Ce says that everyone is special.”

            “They are, but you are special for other reasons. One of those reasons is that you are very observant.”

            “What’s…observ…? What does it mean?”

            “It means that you see things that lots of other people don’t see. Tell me what you see about your papa. Things about him that you can see but that no one has told you.”

            “He’s…he’s sad…but he’s also happy. He thinks he’s not very good at being my papa.”

            “How do you know that?” He asked her, surprised. She shrugged. “I just do. He much cleverer than people think he is. He pretends to be more like you so that…sorry.”

Napoleon was almost sorry he had asked that question. He was unsure how he felt about the implications that left of Illya’s, and indeed Katiya’s opinion of his intelligence. He had to concentrate to regain his train of thought.

            “Katiya, your papa had a very special job to do.”

            “ _UNCLE_ again?”

            “No sweetheart, something _special_ , I said. I can’t tell you what it is because it is a secret, and the reason he didn’t say goodbye is because he loves you too much.”

Katiya looked so disbelieving that Napoleon had to smile.

            “I know sweetheart, that sounds silly, but if he had waited until now to say goodbye to you, he wouldn’t have been able to go. He hates leaving you as much as you hate it. But sometimes it is necessary…I mean he has no choice. He has to go.”

            “But you said this time it wasn’t UNCLE. Papa told me he would only leave me behind for UNCLE work.”

            “I know, and this isn’t a job for UNCLE. Now listen to me Katiya, you told me that your papa is much cleverer than people think he is. You also know how much he loves you. So, do you think he knew before he left how upset you would be when you found him gone?”

She nodded, sniffing.

            “If he loves you so much, and he knew how upset you would be…but he went anyway, what do you think that means?”

            “That it is something really, really important.”

            “So we really should trust him shouldn’t we?”

            “What if I wake up tomorrow and you’re gone too?”

            “I’m not going anywhere, Katiya. You and I are going down to the lake right now to catch some fish for lunch, then I am taking you to a special lady who owns a lot of horses.”

He saw interest spark in the child’s eyes for the first time.

            “Horses? Can I have a ride on one?”

            “She has horses of all different types and sizes. She will have one just your size, and then we will go on a special pony-picnic. Tomorrow I have something special to show you before we go home, but you will have to be a good girl and try not to miss papa too much. Will you try?”

The little girl heaved a shuddering sigh.

            “I miss papa, and I will miss him tomorrow too, but I will try not to cry.”

Napoleon shook his head.

            “Sorry kiddo, that’s not good enough. Papa will want you to tell him all the things we did together that he missed, so you have to promise me to try and have fun, even though it’s just you and me. Try?”

            “Will he be there when we get home?”

            “Promise.”

The little girl looked at him suspiciously for a few moments, then gave a cautious smile. Napoleon stifled his sigh of relief and nodded toward her tent.

            “Right then madam. Why don’t you get dressed into your dungarees and your boots, and we’ll get started, all right?”

She nodded and scuttled back to her tent. Left alone, Napoleon smiled gently, and finished shaving.

 

MFU   MFU   MFU  

 

Napoleon Solo was pleasantly surprised at the speed with which the child appeared to bounce back after her disappointment of her papa disappearing. He suspected that Illya would have a lot of explaining to do when she saw him again, and only hoped that the surprise he was preparing for her would go some way to earning her forgiveness for abandoning her half-way through her long-awaited camping trip.

The child appeared to thoroughly enjoy the day, but her continued feeling of insecurity became clear when that night she refused to sleep alone in the tent she had shared with her papa. She begged to bring her sleeping bag into Napoleon’s tent, so that she would have company. She spent the night sleeping with her head resting on his feet. Napoleon suspected the reason was that if he tried to sneak out in the middle of the night, he could not do so without awakening her. So when, at four in the morning he awakened with an urge to relieve nature, he suppressed it for her benefit, and lay quietly and as patiently as he could until daylight.

That day he took her for a drive into the next town, where they went shopping for clothes for her, for toys she was interested in, much to her surprise, and then lunch. Napoleon was not the least surprised to find that she had chosen no conventional toys at all, but a green teddy bear, a jigsaw puzzle that featured a picture of a large black horse standing under a broad oak tree beside a river, and books of various types and abilities. The largest was a picture book of beautiful scenes from places around the world. A whole chapter in the book was dedicated to pictures featuring scenes from Russia, and it was largely these, Napoleon suspected, that had drawn her to the book.  

They ate pasta for lunch and then Napoleon took her to visit the planetarium.

At first the little girl had commented that sitting on a chair that lay back so far, she would not be able to see anything. He simply smiled and reminded her to trust him and sit right back. The show started, and Katiya was transfixed. To see the night sky right up there above her as though she were sitting outside filled her with awe and excitement. She couldn’t wait to rush off and tell papa all about it. Napoleon noticed as they left that she was subdued, and asked her if she was alright?

            “I wish my papa had seen it too. Papa knows all about the stars.”

            “Well, we can tell papa about it, can’t we? Come on, then. Back to the tent. Tomorrow morning, we pack up and drive back to New York.”

            “Will papa be there?”

            “We’ll see papa as soon as he’s finished doing what he has to do. Maybe if we ask him nicely, he’ll let us see what he’s been up to. Would you like that?”

            “The thing that is more important than camping with me?” Katiya replied, slightly huffily. “Mmm.”

Napoleon hooked a finger under her chin and raised it up so she was forced to meet his eyes.

            “You’re not sulking, are you?”

She shook her head.

            “No, I just miss papa.”

            “I know little one. Believe it or not, I am missing him too. Come on, let’s get back. You have a better memory than me. Maybe before we sleep tonight, we can look at the stars and you can show me how much you remember?”

 

MFU   MFU   MFU

 

Half way home in the car the following day, Napoleon pulled swiftly to the side of the road as he heard his communicator bleeping. He switched off the engine and opened it up.

            “Solo.” He said, aware that Katiya was watching and listening with great interest and curiosity.

            “Code green.” Came Illya’s voice, cutting unexpectedly loudly through the silence. Katiya grabbed the device and shouted into it.

            “Papa!”

She began talking quickly in Ukrainian. By the tone of her voice, Napoleon guessed she was remonstrating with him for leaving her, but at the same time telling him of the exciting time they had had riding horses and seeing the stars. After a few moments, Illya’s voice cut through her babble, silencing her. She handed the communicator back to Napoleon with a mumbled: “Sorry Uncle Napoleon.”

            “Everything okay Partner?” He asked Illya.

            “All as planned. You can come straight over. We’ll be waiting.”

            “On our way. Solo out.”

Katiya was subdued for the rest of the journey, largely, Solo guessed, because her papa had scolded her for rudeness. They travelled steadily, stopping half-way for lunch, with Katiya refusing to eat anything. Napoleon secretly bought her an apple and a cereal bar to eat once she realized she was hungry after all, and they set off once again.

About five o’clock in the evening, they pulled into the Solo Farm driveway. Illya was standing on the edge of the lawn near the front door of the house. He was alone. Katiya got out of the car and walked slowly to him. Illya cocked his head to one side.

            “Why are you mad at me?”

            “You left me. And you told me off.”

            “You know why I told you off, Katiya. You know it is wrong to interrupt like that. As for leaving you, I am very sorry, but there was something I had to do that I should have done before.”

            “What? Why did you have to leave me without even saying goodbye?”

            “Goodbye sometimes means forever. That frightens me, Katiya. That is why. Come along, I have something to show you.”

He took her into the house, up the stairs and opened the door to the guest room…the room they had been calling `Katiya’s papa’s room’. On the door, Katiya’s name had been painted in large, curly blue and yellow lettering. She stared at it wide-eyed for a moment, then pushed open the door. She stared, open-mouthed.

The whole room had been changed.

Instead of the double bed, a wide single bed with a pretty blue bedspread. A large painted, wooden rocking-horse stood in one corner; in the other a two-seater sofa draped with a blanket embroidered with horses. A cupboard opened to reveal things Katiya had not seen for over a year…things she had owned when she lived with mama, and then with dedushka. Carved animals Uncle Dimitry had made for her when she was very little, and the scrap-book she and mama had been making together for most of her life; filled with paintings and drawings done by both of them. Things which made her remember things that she had forgotten about. The walls were hung with two large drawings of horses, and a large painting that Katiya instantly recognized. Dedushka had bought it for her in a local market during the time that they had been in hiding. She had loved it as it reminded her of the home they had left behind. On the window ledge stood two framed photographs. One of a young man that looked like papa, but much younger, the other of her dedushka looking exactly as she remembered him. She had a chest of drawers and a wardrobe with her own clothes stored neatly inside it, and a big white rug on the floor with a very real black and white kitten laying on it, fast asleep.

She crept into the room, examining everything carefully. She stroked the cat, who slept on. She looked at the photos and picked up the one of papa. She showed it to Illya.

            “Papa, this is not you, is it?”

            “No. That is your papa. Your first papa. I took that picture. It was the last time we were together.”

            “This is what you were doing? This is all for me?”

Illya nodded.

            “This is your room, Katiya. No one else’s room but yours. Aunty Ce will come in every day to clean it, but when you are inside, Uncle Winston and Polly will always knock and ask you before they come in. When I visit, I too will knock, and ask before I come in.”

            “But where will you sleep when you come, papa?”

Illya smiled and showed her how the sofa rolled out into an extra bed.

            “I could sleep on your sofa?”

Katiya smiled suddenly.

            “When I come to your apartment in New York, I sleep in your bed and you sleep on your sofa. I think it should be the other way around. If you let _me_ sleep on _your_ sofa, I will let _you_ sleep on _mine_.”

Late that night, Napoleon and Illya sat up late in the sitting room with Winston and Cecily.

            “Do you think that giving her that room properly for herself will help?” Napoleon asked his sister-in-law. Cecily smiled.

            “It’s what I have wanted right from the start, but I let myself be persuaded otherwise. I think you and Illya hit on a good compromise. I have impressed upon our Poll the reasons for the change, so although she is not happy at losing her room-mate, she understands. Sort of, at least.”

            “I felt that if she could be shown that her place here is secure, she might become more settled…less afraid of…” Illya faltered and shrugged. “To be honest, I am finding this difficult myself. All I really want is to have her to live with me full-time. This is a compromise for both of us.”

Ce got up and ruffled his hair as she passed.

            “Well, I don’t about you men, but I have a lot of work to do in the morning. Illya, she will now see that room as her permanent place. Surrounded by her own, familiar things, she is bound to start to feel more at home and settled. Give it time. Good night.”

When she was gone, Winston got up to refill their glasses, and Illya turned to his partner.

            “Thank you for this weekend, Napoleon. How did you know how to handle her when she started to get stroppy?”

Napoleon let out a short laugh.

            “I didn’t. I simply figured that a seven-and-a-half-year-old child should be easier to deal with than a THRUSH villain.”

He got up from his chair, and Illya grinned.

            “So? Which would you prefer to tackle the next time?”

            “THRUSH villain, every time. Your daughter is plain scary! Goodnight my friend.”

Left behind, Illya accepted his refilled glass from Winston and smiled to himself. Scary? Katiya? Never in a million years.


End file.
